Page 15 of Pro Gamer's Aim

Every time I shift my weight to get more comfortable, I can feel his body tense and his breath catch. The power that gives me is a thrill I've never felt before.

My heart pounds against my ribs, breath coming faster. I'm acutely aware of every flex of Asher's muscles, every brush of skin on skin. His scent fills my head, an intoxicating mix of pine and something darker. Richer. It clings to the back of my throat, heady and addicting.

I lean further into him, relishing the solid warmth of his body. His arm tightens around my waist in response, pulling me impossibly closer. A small, needy sound escapes me. I feel more than hear Asher's sharp intake of breath, his chest expanding against my back.

"Samantha." His voice is rough, strained. I tilt my head back to meet his gaze and drown in the intensity I find there. Asher's eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and ringed with only the thinnest slice of blue. They burn into me, hungry and searching.

The air between us crackles, heavy with tension. With want. I can't look away. Can't move. Can't breathe. I'm caught in Asher's orbit, helpless to resist the pull. He leans in, achingly slow, until his forehead rests against mine.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, breath ghosting across my lips. "Tell me you don't want this."

I should. I know I should. This is insane. We don't even know each other. But my body doesn't care. It yearns for his with a ferocity that steals my breath. I ache, empty and desperate to be filled. To be claimed.

By Asher.

Only Asher.

"Don't stop," I whisper. "Please."

Chapter seven

Chapter 7

Samantha

Aheartbeat. Two. The world holds its breath.

And then Asher's mouth is on mine and I'm lost. His lips are firm, insistent, moving against me with a hunger that borders on feral. I open for him immediately, welcoming the slick slide of his tongue. He tastes like whiskey and want, intoxicating. Addicting.

I twist in his hold, controller forgotten, desperate to get closer. My fingers grip his shoulders, nails digging into corded muscle as I strain toward him. Asher groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me. His hands skim my sides, my hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

I'm drowning in sensation. In him. Every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth winds the coil tighter. I'm liquid heat, molten desire. Nothing else exists except this. His body on mine. His scent in my head.

Asher tears his mouth from mine to blaze a path down my throat. I moan, arching into him as he finds the sensitive spot just below my ear. He latches on, sucking hard, and white-hot pleasure lances through me. My head falls back, a broken cry on my lips.

"Asher, please..."

"Shh, little bunny. The match is starting."

Wait, what?

I blink as he bites my neck, still suckling, and turn my eyes to the TV.

Oh. He's right. We're loading in.

His lips travel back up to my ear. "Hold onto your controller properly, bunny."

Right. My controller. I grab it like a lifeline, squirming against him, feeling his hips thrust against my ass. Fuck. I want so much more.

It's impossible to focus with his hands roaming my body, teasing, tempting. His breath is hot against my ear, words dripping with sinful promise.

"Kill three players," he murmurs, fingers grazing the underside of my breast, "and I'll make you come so hard you'll forget your own name."

I whimper, head falling back against his shoulder. How am I supposed to concentrate like this? When all I can think about is his touch, his scent, the hard press of his arousal against my backside?

"Four kills..." Asher's hand drifts lower, skimming my stomach. "And I'll use my mouth. Lick you until you scream."

Oh god. I clench my thighs together, aching. The idea of his head between my legs, that wicked tongue on me... I nearly combust on the spot.

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